


A Series of Chance Encounters

by shelny18



Series: Compatibility [6]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, New Friends, Old Friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 18:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shelny18/pseuds/shelny18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How the Amis first met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Series of Chance Encounters

"This place is tiny!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, turning round and round on the main street as he took everything in. "It's practically quaint!"

"It's only small compared to Liverpool," Grantaire laughed. "I've seen pictures of the village you were born it, that was way smaller than this."

"Yeah, but we moved away from the twelve houses and a church before I'd turned three," Courfeyrac pointed out. "I can't remember anything about Ireland at all, only Liverpool."

"Which is why you speak with a strong Irish accent."

"It's called pride!" Courfeyrac announced proudly.

"Bloody foreigners," he heard someone mutter seconds later and his face fell slightly.

"Ignore them," Grantaire suggested, slinging an arm round the shoulders of his oldest friend. "You're only here for four years, then we shall never have to return. The world shall be our oyster!" Glancing down at his watch, he patted Courfeyrac's arm before moving away. "I gotta go, I need to buy some art stuff before classes start tomorrow. Try not to get too lost," he teased, smirking at the scowl Courfeyrac gave him.

Left on his own, Courfeyrac wandered around the high street for a few more minutes before heading into the nearest cafe.

"Hi," the barista greeted him, putting away the mug he'd been wiping before picking up his checkbook. "What can I get you?"

"Coffee please." Courfeyrac leant against the counter and studied the other occupants of the room, only noticing the barista was speaking again when he'd almost finished and was looking at him with an expectant look. "Erm, sorry I was miles away. What was that you were saying?"

"What kind of coffee?" he repeated, now looking amused. "Just plain filter, or americano, latte, cappuchino, mocha, espresso-"

"Ooh, hazelnut latte please," Courfeyrac grinned. "I haven't had one of those in months."

"Take a seat and I'll fetch it over," the barista replied, already turning away to start making the drink. Courfeyrac made his way over to the comfiest chairs he could see, not caring if it was one of the biggest tables and he was alone. "New student?" the other man asked when he placed the mug in front of Courfeyrac, stepping back slightly.

"Yeah, law. You a student here as well?"

He shook his head. "No, not yet, but I'm applying this time."

"Seriously?" Courfeyrac was shocked. "You live here but you still want to apply to this university? God I wouldn't have applied to Liverpool in a thousand years!"

"This is a good university," the barista countered. "And besides, I don't technically live here. I just work in this town."

"I still think you're crazy," Courfeyrac laughed, but he still extended his hand, bright smile on his face as he lived up to his reputation as the friendliest man around. "I'm Courfeyrac by the way."

"Combeferre," he smiled, shaking the offered hand. "Nice to meet you."

* * *

Grantaire and Courfeyrac may have been living on the same corridor but in reality the friends saw very little of each other, with Grantaire spending most of his time either drinking, painting or both, and Courfeyrac finding his way into most of the bars and clubs in town, making many friends for himself as he did so. Yet he still found time each weekend afternoon to frequent the little cafe he'd discovered that first day in town, the Musain, finding it to be the perfect place to study or just relax. Pretty soon he was becoming predictable. His coffee was made almost before he walked in the door and Combeferre would offer up little titbits of local or national news that he thought might interest Courfeyrac, or sometimes lean over his shoulder and comment on one of the court cases he had to assess and learn.

By the end of the first month they'd swapped phone numbers, and by the time November came around they were quickly becoming fast friends. They weren't similar, far from it in fact, but they didn't care about that. Courfeyrac was enthusiastic and the type to act before he thought, whilst Combeferre was more sensible, taking into consideration every option before he decided anything, but together they balanced each other out nicely.

This was the one friendship which Courfeyrac kept quiet from Grantaire. Everything else he shared with his lifelong friend, but he just knew the pair wouldn't see eye-to-eye on, well, anything really, so he simply told the art student he went to the cafe to study in peace. In reality any studying was soon forgotten once Combeferre's shift finished and he joined Courfeyrac at the table.

The day Courfeyrac entered the Musain and realised a stranger had taken Combeferre's normal place behind the counter he was bitterly disappointed.

"Gingerbread latte please," he ordered, grateful it was finally December and he could indulge in his favourite drink. "No 'Ferre today?"

"Ah, you must be the Irish student he mentioned earlier," the woman smiled. "He's off at some rally, said he'd mentioned it to you but that you would probably have forgotten and be asking about him."

"No, I remembered," Courfeyrac protested. "Well, sort of... I thought it was next week." He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Thanks." He gave the waitress a bright smile and accepted the coffee she held out. He never made them serve drinks to his table these days, instead prefering to lean on the counter and chat to his friend as he waited. The large table with comfy chairs had unofficially become his however, and he sighed with contentment as he sank into one and spread his papers out.

He'd been studying for about an hour and was steadily sinking into boredom when the door banged open.

"'Chetta, we need some cloths!" Combeferre called out as he strode into the cafe, practically carrying a young-looking man who had his arm draped over his shoulder. "And a bandage."

"If you boys get blood on my cafe floor again..." She let the threat trail off as she hurried into the back room, returning with a first aid box, towels and a bucket of hot water. "What happened this time?"she asked quietly. Courfeyrac watched intently as she and Combeferre manouvered the other man into a chair, the female barista starting to wash away the blood matting his blonde curls to his forehead.

"The idiot decided he wanted a turn at speaking out and managed to annoy half the crowd," Combeferre sighed, searching through the green box for the right bandages. "Almost started a riot, and forgot to duck when someone threw a brick. I got him out of there just as the police moved in. Figured here was safer than the hospital." Between them they managed to clean and bandage their friend up. "Hey Courf," Combeferre said finally, smiling tiredly over at the student.

"Still convinced the rally was a good idea?" Courfeyrac joked, being certain the other man was okay.

"The rally was mostly a success," the blonde croaked, giving the waitress a thumbs up when she passed him a glass of water.

"Oh yeah, I can see that from your head nearly being caved in. What was it about again?"

"Cuts to benefits and the proposed reduction of the minimum wage," Combeferre explained. "Sadly lots of those present were of the belief that those on benefits are all frauds and useless. This is Enjolras by the way. Enjolras, Courfeyrac, the law student I told you about."

"You must be the wannabe politician 'Ferre's mentioned," Courfeyrac said with a smile, offering his hands as the pair moved over to his table and the waitress went  
back to work. "Gonna change the world I hear."

"Yeah, but I doubt you'd like what I have in mind," Enjolras replied curtly, shaking Courfeyrac's hand firmly. "I'd rather not have more money-greedy lawyers around charging extortionate fees."

"Actually, I was intending to set up a pro bono publico thing for anyone who is not in a position to afford legal aid," Courfeyrac replied coldly, deciding he may not like the newcomer after all. "Then charge the rich fat cats who come to me a little extra, to help cover the costs. They can spare it." The smile that curved Enjolras's lips upwards was real and reached his eyes as he shook Courfeyrac's hand again, more warmly this time.

"Pleasure to meet you at long last Courfeyrac. We must discuss these plans more at some point, when I'm not in danger of being forced to a hospital to check for concussion."

"Speaking of which, car. Now." Combeferre's tone of voice left no room for argument, not even from Enjolras, who simply sighed and left the cafe. "I'll catch you tomorrow okay?" he said then to Courfeyrac. "Sorry about dashing off like this."

"That's fine, go take care of him. I'll see you then. Oh, and feel free to bring him along." Courfeyrac smiled wryly. "I get the feeling he'll have interesting things to say about some of these cases, and I do have to actually study occasionally."

* * *

Joly hated his work experience some days. It wasn't that he hated the work or the hospital, far from it, but he couldn't help but shudder with fear at the thought of a busy Accident and Emergency waiting room, with all the infectious diseases that were surely lurking there.

"Stupid career to go for then," his best friend, Bossuet, always pointed out but Joly ignored him. Once he was working he was perfectly alright, so focused on helping others that he temporarily forgot about his fears. And if he washed his hands about ten times after leaving the hospital, just to make sure, then that wasn't really hurting anybody.

"Joly, can you deal with this next patient on your own?" the doctor on duty called over, busy inspecting a young girl. "It's a wound to the head, but he's conscious and able to walk." Leaving a very junior medical student to attend to patients alone was technically against hospital regulations, but Dr. Carson knew Joly could cope.

"Enjolras Molloy?" Joly called, scanning down the sheet fastened to the clipboard he'd been handing before glancing round the room. Two teenagers were approaching, the one injured barely looking old enough to have left high school. "If you'd just come this way," Joly said professionally, leading them to a small treament room. "What happened?" he inquired as he sat Enjolras down and started unwrapping the bandage. The second teenager shook his head minutely when Enjolras glanced up at him.

"An accident involving a brick," he told Joly, leaning against the wall as he watched the medical student examine the wound.

"Would this accident happen to have taken place at a certain rally in the next town?" Joly smiled. "Because if it did, then good on you. A friend of mine was there, he texted me saying about a young man who ripped up every opponent to the protest before being silenced by a well-aimed missile."

"Told you it was stupid to lie," Enjolras told his friend, rolling his eyes at him. "It's not like I'm ashamed of it."

"No, it's just sensible to not get yourself locked up," the other man pointed out.

"Damn it Combeferre, if it makes people listen-"

"It's still you behind bars," Combeferre snapped back, the only one of their friends at high school who dared interrupt Enjolras. "You know full well I can't afford to bail you out till I hit eighteen, and there's no way your dad would. Be sensible Enjolras."

"You know, it would be a lot easier to stitch your head up if you weren't about to jump up and starting arguing properly," Joly pointed out calmly but firmly, his words making both men still instantly. "Whoever bandaged his head did a good job by the way. I haven't seen anything that neat since the example at university." He paused for a moment whilst he threaded the needle. "You're going to need some anaesthetic," he told Enjolras. "I really hope you're not scared of needles."

"I'll live," he shrugged.

"So I hear you're quite the speaker," Joly continued speaking as he slowly stitched the wound shut, simply trying to fill the silence now filling the room.

"Public rhetoric is simple when you are passionate about what you believe in," Enjolras replied instantly.

"Well, I wish I'd been there today."

"I can let you know when the organisers of today's rally set up anything else," Enjolras offered as Joly finished his work.

Pulling a Sharpie from his pocket, Joly took hold of Enjolras's arm and wrote his name and number there.

"No paper," he apologised, letting go of the arm. "If I'm not busy here then me and my friend will be there."

"I look forward to seeing you again then," Enjolras smiled, shaking Joly's hand as he stood to leave.

"Sometimes even I struggle to believe you're still at college," Combeferre chuckled as they left, shaking his head slightly. "You are going to make one heck of a politician one day, and at this rate you'll have enough contacts in the right places to change the world."


End file.
